


Remember Summer Days

by hoesthetic



Series: A Resort For Blue [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 1990s, Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Pining, fluff with a sad-ish ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23344297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoesthetic/pseuds/hoesthetic
Summary: Mark had been aware that something had changed in their dynamic since that one summer night, and so had his feelings, forming a certain attachment but—it was never this bad. In the darkness of his bedroom, he could admit to himself that the thing he felt towards Donghyuck was, in fact, attraction.But never in daylight. Never like this, when Donghyuck almost topples over on his feet in a subway when it’s afternoon and the rays fall in through the windows like spotlights on a stage.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Series: A Resort For Blue [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678072
Comments: 37
Kudos: 131





	Remember Summer Days

**Author's Note:**

> i kept thinking about movies like ocean waves while writing this and listening to citypop and ghibli soundtracks.
> 
> this is indeed a sequel to [cheap honey](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23284162) but it's not necessary to read the first part, although it will help to understand this story. so i recommend reading it nevertheless. 
> 
> dont read this next sentence if u dont want any idea whats to come in this fic lol: this is pretty fluffy and not very heavy but the ending is not happy. it's not sad-sad (maybe), either. but if you want a happy fairytale ending, this aint it. sorry. 
> 
> again heres me thanking ollie aka ao3 user gloomy for beta'ing and listening to me complain abt this lol i love u horribbblllyy
> 
> anyway hehe enjoy!

Mark is trying to catch his breath, palms prepped against his thighs, sweat rolling down his face in tidy beads, when he hears the teacher whistle as a sign that they’re allowed to stop running—like Mark hadn’t stopped half a minute ago. 

“Boys, rest for five minutes!” He calls out and Mark drags himself to the bench situated next to the bright green grass field. His red tracksuit is itchy and uncomfortable but so is everyone else's, he figures. He isn’t wearing his glasses, left in his backpack in the locker room, and if he squints his eyes, everyone looks the same. Black hair and red suits. 

Mark sits down, reaching with his hand to grab the water bottle from underneath the bench. 

“Hyung!” He hears a familiar voice call and Mark almost chokes on his water, even though he isn’t exactly sure what took him by surprise. 

“Hyuckie,” he turns his head to Donghyuck, walking towards him in a quick pace, “shouldn’t you be in class?” 

Donghyuck snorts and shakes his head. 

“I said I got a headache and was sent to the nurse!” 

“I’m the nurse?”

“I mean, if you can give me a pass to go home, then that’s okay with me.”

Mark rolls his eyes and smiles, taking another big gulp of his water. It’s a warm spring day and it hasn’t been March for long so he knows it’s going to get warmer and the dress shirts will change into short sleeves and the bottom of his tracksuit for P.E’s going to switch to shorts. 

“You’re so lazy,” he comments.

Donghyuck pouts. 

“Hyung,” he whines, “you don’t believe that I have a headache?”

“Fuck no,” Mark laughs, shaking his head, “I know you’re a filthy liar.”

“And you’ve got a dirty mouth! Go wash it, or otherwise I’ll tell your teacher,” Donghyuck says and crosses his arms. He isn’t even wearing a jacket, just a blazer over his white shirt. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” he huffs. 

“Teacher!” Donghyuck calls then, waving his arm to get his attention. 

“Shut up,” Mark says, pushing him to his side and Donghyuck almost topples over, a dumb grin on his lips, still adamant about getting the teacher’s attention. He succeeds, too, because then he is walking to their direction and Mark wants the ground swallow him whole.

“What are you doing here?” The teacher asks and Mark cheers inside his mind. Seems like Donghyuck forgot about that, how he isn’t even supposed to be here. 

“Uh,” he says dumbly, before proceeding confidently, “the teacher sent me. Mark-hyung here, uh, his mom called the office.” 

Mark glances at Donghyuck sharply as if to say that stop it before he digs the hole even deeper and pulls them both down with him. He doesn’t even look back. The teacher cocks his brow, a concerned look arising on his face. 

“What about?” 

“A family emergency,” he says, face twisting into something sad, and Mark hates how convincing it looks, “his grandma is in the hospital.”

Mark sighs before deciding to play along, there isn’t really any other choice for him. He nods and looks up at the teacher with eyes that are meant to seem sad, but he isn’t sure how good an actor he is. 

“Yes, Donghyuck-ah just told me that he had to come instead of his teacher because,” Mark glances at Donghyuck to see his encouraging expression, “uh, she couldn’t leave the class unattended.” 

It’s a weak explanation because there isn’t really a reason why a class wouldn’t be without a teacher for maybe five minutes. 

“I see,” the teacher says with a thoughtful look on his face, completely buying it, “I suppose you can be excused then, go call your mom.” 

Mark gets up and gives a little bow, the bottle of water clutched into his hand.

“Thank you,” Mark says, “thank you.” 

The teacher nods and turns to Donghyuck. 

“Go now, back to your class,” he says.

“Yes, thank you,” Donghyuck says and bows, face serious but Mark knows that face and he also knows that it’s dripping with mischief and about to crack into a grin any moment now. 

The teacher returns to the field, to join all the boys who are sitting on the grass, and whistles. 

“Christ,” Mark mumbles, “we are so going to get detention.”

Donghyuck giggles, face lighting up into the smile Mark knew was coming. 

“We so are,” he confirms, nodding towards the stairs leading up to the school yard, “let’s go get you changed.”

Donghyuck starts running up the stairs and despite having just been running for the past twenty minutes, he chases after him. The trees next to the stairs cast shadows on them and the rays of sunlight hit Donghyuck, creating a view that’s zebra-like, everchanging. 

Walking across the asphalt of the yard, Mark slings his arm over Donghyuck’s shoulder. 

“Get off, you smell,” he complains but doesn’t push him away. Mark ruffles his hair violently. 

“No respect,” he shakes his head, “I thought your mom raised you better.”

“You know well enough that she’s a great mom! She always cooks for you, no complaints heard then. It’s you who is full of shit,” Donghyuck says, again in that whiny nasal tone. 

“And I’ve got the nasty mouth?” Mark asks, letting go of Donghyuck to push open the door. 

“Absolutely, I was just stating facts. The fact is that you are indeed filled with shit to the brim, while you were just cursing me out. There is a major difference.”

“Ah, so smart, Hyuckie,” he says softly, walking down the stairs to the locker rooms, Donghyuck trailing behind him now, “I see you’ve paid attention in your biology class.”

“You know how I am, teachers and parents love me, I’m a joy to be around.”

“I would know about that,” Mark laughs, “a delight.”

“Good to know that your brain works too, hyung, although I’m kind of surprised, one would think you would’ve acquired brain damage from living like you.”

“Living like me?” 

“Yeah,” Donghyuck hums, waiting for Mark to push open the door, which he does, “you know, only ramen and Coca Cola.”

“I can’t help it that my mom can’t cook for shit,” he shrugs his shoulders, walking to his locker. Donghyuck walks in to the room with him and he shouldn’t feel anything about it, but he does, anyway. Mark ignores it and just opens the locker, pulling out his backpack and clothes. He should shower, too, but he’s not going to.

“You have a point there,” Donghyuck agrees and Mark can almost hear him nodding. 

“What’s the plan now?” He asks, pulling down the zipper of his red jacket and pulling off his t-shirt, back facing Donghyuck. 

“I don’t have a plan,” he admits without an ounce of shame, “you didn’t notice the grandma thing was total improvisation?”

“If I didn’t know better, I probably wouldn’t have. You’re such a good liar, Hyuckie.”

“Ah, thank you, hyung, always saying such nice things about me. What would my self esteem do without you?” 

Mark buttons his shirt up, kicks his shoes off and pulls down his pants, stepping into his trousers.

“Wither and die.”

“Or maybe thrive. Maybe you’re the reason I can’t shake off that extra pound.” 

Mark pouts even though Donghyuck can’t see his face, fumbling with his belt. 

“What extra pound? You look just fine.”

“Okay, right, I am irresistibly handsome,” he says, “hurry up, I’m getting tired of admiring the wall.”

He looks over his shoulder to see that Donghyuck is really looking at the white wall. He has seen him naked before, there isn’t really any reason for him to do that now but, of course, Mark doesn’t say anything, he wouldn’t make him look at him change because that’s just weird. 

“I’m almost ready,” Mark says, sitting down to put on his shoes and finally, glasses. 

It takes him only a few minutes more, pulling on his blazer and shoving his dirty clothes in his backpack to take them home for washing, and then he gets up and hurries to Donghyuck, slapping his shoulder. 

“Let’s go,” he says and Donghyuck turns his face to him, a slight smile on his lips, “to wherever your non-plan will take us.”

“I was thinking the arcade,” Donghyuck says .

”Arcade it is,” Mark confirms and opens the door. They will get detention, there’s zero doubt about that, but they are going to get it for lying no matter if they stay or go so they might as well get some fun out of it.

The day feels a little bit brighter than before when they walk into the sunlight, even though Mark doesn’t know why, exactly. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


There’s something like history between them.

It sounds too dramatic to put it like that. Last summer they watched porn together and gave each other handjobs. But that was in 1996 and now it’s 1997. Mark isn’t still too sure how it ended up like that. They’re best friends and he guesses other boys sometimes end up in situations similar to theirs.

The worrisome thing is how Mark’s feelings changed after that. 

He hadn’t thought of Donghyuck like that before, not really, but he still, after over half a year, can’t stop replaying it in his mind. At this point it almost feels like a dream, a creation of his own imagination as neither of them have talked about it. Sometimes Mark can pick up things and realize that yes, it did really happen, like when Donghyuck gets a little flustered when someone mentions American porn stars. It’s not in the way that other boys do. 

But Mark isn’t going to bring it up if he won’t. There’s no need for it anyway. For a while it was painful, Donghyuck avoiding him like the plague but their friendship is a stubborn magnet and it takes more to tear them apart. 

It’s a Saturday and they’re sitting in detention. 

The teacher doesn’t look happy to be here, a stern look on his face. Mark would be afraid if it was directed only at him but Donghyuck is there to share his suffering, sitting in the row furthest from him, right next to the window. Mark doubts it was a good call from the teacher to make him sit there because Donghyuck is leaning against his palm, dreamily looking out of the window.

His dark hair is messy, looking almost golden brown under the midday sun. Mark thinks it’s unfair that Donghyuck gets to look like a manhwa character. He knows he shouldn’t be staring like this but he’s blaming it on the boredom. They don’t even get to do school work, or even write the same word repeatedly like they do in the American tv-shows he has seen. 

Mark looks at the clock on the wall. Still a whole hour to go. The teacher is reading a book, eyebrows furrowed angrily. Maybe the book is angering him. Maybe the hero in it can’t get the woman he loves for she’s promised to someone else. Maybe he relates to it, maybe his own wife is having an affair with someone younger and more attractive than him. 

That’s what Mark gets when he doesn’t have clouds to stare at. He looks at Donghyuck again and this time, he isn’t looking outside. He meets his gaze halfway. 

Donghyuck sticks his tongue out like a little kid and Mark wants to laugh. The corners of his mouth tug upwards and he glances at the teacher quickly—he isn’t playing attention at them. Mark makes a face, eyes crossed and mouth turned into an ugly frown. 

Donghyuck tries to do him one better, taking his cheeks between his thumbs and forefingers and stretching them. It’s so silly but something about him makes Mark want to roll on the floor laughing. It shouldn’t be so funny. 

“Boys,” the teacher says, making Mark jolt out of surprise, “none of that funny stuff.” 

“So sorry,” Donghyuck apologizes quickly, returning to a neutral face but it isn’t so easy for Mark, feeling still the need to grin so he bites his tongue and forces his lips into a straight line, looking down at the wooden desk. Someone has carved a little heart on it. Mark traces it with the tip of his finger. 

He gives Donghyuck a quick glance, just to see how’s holding up, and he has returned admiring the clouds. Maybe there’s something out there, too. A pretty upperclassman, maybe, someone from Mark’s class. He wonders if Donghyuck would like Soojung. She confessed her feelings to Mark once, two years ago, on the sports field, too. He had gotten all strangled up with his words and probably made her regret ever liking him. 

Now she had blossomed, though. 

Mark puts his face in his hands. Why is he thinking about it like it matters? It doesn’t. Donghyuck would’ve told him if he liked anyone, for sure. 

The hour passes by extremely slowly and by the end of it Mark is trying to count the threads in his sleeve. 

“Alright,” the teacher breaks the silence when the clock hits 2pm, “you’re excused now. I hope you both learned something from this.” 

His voice is so awfully apathetic that Mark feels almost sorry for him. 

“Yes, of course,” Donghyuck speaks because of course, “I am, personally, filled with regret over what I did and I realize that now.”

It’s him who is full of shit, not Mark. 

“Good,” the teacher says blankly. 

He gets up and picks his backpack from the floor, traipsing to the door carefully, almost ready to sit back down if the teacher says so. 

“Thank you,” Mark just mumbles as he passes by his desk. 

In the corridor, Donghyuck slaps him in the back with too much force than necessary. 

“That was the longest three hours of my life,” he sighs, “I’m not sure if the arcade was worth all that.”

“At least you got the window!” Mark hisses.

“True,” Donghyuck nods, shoving his hands in the pockets of his trousers, “do you wanna do anything now?” 

Mark thinks about his answer for a bit before shaking his head. 

“No, I gotta go home. How about tomorrow?” 

“Sure,” Donghyuck says. 

They live in the same direction, just a few blocks from each other. At the bus stop, Mark takes off his glasses to wipe them to the hem of his shirt. The day is really nice, to be fair, and he’s kinda sad about having to go come. 

“Taeyong-hyung is coming from college today, did I tell you? Spring break,” Mark says, kicking the empty beer can on the ground. 

“You did,” Donghyuck says, “should I come see him?” 

“If you want to. I’m sure he’d be happy to see you.”

There’s a part of Mark that doesn’t want it, and it feels bad to be aware of it. He just sort of wants to keep Taeyong to himself for a while because it’s his brother. His brother, who never comes home, not even for summers, and barely calls. He isn’t sure what happened there but Mark’s pretty sure it has something to do with his dad. 

It could be a DNA thing. Mark barely sees him either. Always working and if not, wearing his work attire and breath smelling like soju and cigarettes. A proud man who has always prioritized his career over his family. He couldn’t blame him. 

“Maybe I’ll stop by,” Donghyuck says, waving at the bus approaching. 

“Neat,” Mark nods. 

The bus ride is mostly silent because the thing is that they don’t have to talk for things to feel comfortable. Mark sits next to the window and stares out of it, looking at the familiar buildings and streets. The clouds on the blue sky are huge and white. 

Mark fiddles with his fingers, pulling his hangnails. It’s a bad habit. 

“I’ll call you,” Donghyuck tells him as his stop is coming closer, “you know, about seeing Taeyong-hyung and about tomorrow, too.” 

Mark nods.

“Alright,” he says, “see you, Hyuckie.”

The bus pulls to his stop.

“See you, hyung!” Donghyuck exclaims and gets up, almost running out of the bus. Mark leans against the prussian blue seat and lets out a deep sigh, whatever that’s about.

Donghyuck does call him, later. 

It’s after they’ve had dinner, Mark, Taeyong and his mom. It’s a surprise to no one that his dad wasn’t present. It was rather uneventful, the food bland like always, his mom harassing Taeyong with questions about a girlfriend and even grandbabies. 

“It’s Donghyuck!” His mom had yelled at him from the living room, just for Mark to rush from the bathroom to take the call. 

“Hey,” Mark says, fiddling with the curly chord. It’s an old phone but as it works, his mom doesn’t see a reason to get a new one. 

“Hey, you,” Donghyuck responds, voice cheery like always.

“Did you eat?” Mark asks, sitting down on the armchair. 

“Yeah. You, too?”

“I did. Let me tell you, I would’ve rather sat in the detention all over. It was so awkward,” he complains, hoping his mom doesn’t hear him. Donghyuck laughs in the other end of the line. 

“God, I bet. Imma guess, your mom bullied Taeyong-hyung?” 

“Absolutely and only that. I feel bad for him, really.”

“How is he doing?” Donghyuck asks and he sounds actually interested. 

“Uh, fine, I think. The thing is that we didn’t really get to talk about how _he_ is doing, only his grades and you know, potential wives or whatever.”

“Well, ask him! If you won’t, I’ll come over and make him feel loved. You’re his brother.”

Mark can almost hear his eye roll across the call. 

“I’ll ask but you can come over anyway,” he says. The thing about wanting to keep Taeyong all to himself kind of faded after seeing him and having felt that certain awkwardness. He even looked different, which is weird since he did see him a little over three months ago in December. 

“Your mom won’t mind?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure, but I’ll ask to ease your mind,” Mark says, covering the speaker with his palm to yell out to his mom. 

“Mom! Can Hyuck come over?” He shouts. 

“Of course,” is the response he hears and that’s what he repeats to the call, too.

“She said yes,” Mark tells him. 

“Aight,” Donghyuck says happily, “I’ll be there in, uh, half an hour. Warn your brother.”

“Will do,” he says and ends the call shortly after. He puts down the receiver and gets up from the chair, stretching his arms up. 

Mark walks across the house to Taeyong’s old room. He peeks his head inside as the door is open, spotting him laying on the bed on top of the covers, reading a comic. 

“Donghyuck is coming over,” Mark says. Taeyong puts the comic down on his chest. 

“Okay. It’ll be nice to see him,” he says and smiles. There’s something gentle about him which is strange, too, because Taeyong is the brother with the striking features, the one girls always admire and all that jazz, but he’s soft. It’s an admirable quality but Mark is, of course, too embarrassed to tell such a thing to him. 

“He told me to warn you, so…” Mark trails off, shifting on his feet, “how are you, anyway?” 

Taeyong looks a little surprised by the question. He sits up.

“I’m good,” he says and it sounds genuine, “I’m good. I didn’t really expect anyone to ask that, though.”

Mark laughs dryly. 

“Donghyuck told me to do that, too. I wouldn’t have thought to otherwise.”

“He’s good influence then.”

Mark snorts. 

“Are you sure about that?” He asks. 

Taeyong raises his brows. 

“I mean, you always seem happy with him. I’ve always liked him too.”

“I was in detention today because of him,” Mark snorts. 

“Well, to get a rainbow you need a little bit of rain,” he says in a joking tone. 

Mark smiles. 

“When did you become a poet?”

“College,” Taeyong says bluntly and it makes him laugh. 

“Fair enough.”

Mark shifts on his feet again, feeling like a little bit of a nuisance in the doorway.

“Well,” he starts, “you’ll probably hear when he comes.”

“How could I not? He knows how to make an entrance,” Taeyong says with a smile. Mark chuckles, nodding in agreement. 

And it’s true because when the doorbell rings and Donghyuck steps in, it’s hard not to hear him.

They don’t do much, when Donghyuck comes over. The three of them in the living room, gathered around the television to watch a game. Mark isn’t overly interested in sports but he knows that neither are Donghyuck or Taeyong. 

It’s nice to be like that. It’s maybe a little weird to feel happiness over it, but he does. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Taeyong leaves the next Wednesday and Mark hates to see him go but he doesn’t wail. He does give him a hug, though. 

The weather keeps getting warmer and by Friday, he’s perfectly fine in a short sleeved shirt. Mark had a hoodie shoved into his backpack just in case it gets colder later in the evening but of course he forgot it home.

He’s at basketball court with Donghyuck. It’s surprising that no one is there as Mark would expect it to be crawling with middle school kids but it’s just them. They weren’t even going to play but there just happened to be a basketball on the ground and as if either of them would refuse a little fun. 

It’s all fun and games, running around the court and definitely not following any rules, until Mark trips on his feet and hits the ground with zero grace.

His first instinct is to laugh. Donghyuck is laughing. But then the pain hits him like a freight train. 

”Oh fuck,” he curses, sitting up and hands immediately reaching to clutch his ankle. Donghyuck’s laughter quickly fades out and he kneels next to him.

”Wait, you’re hurt?” He asks, like he didn’t think that was a possibility. Mark’s eyes are starting to tear up because Jesus fucking Christ, it really hurts. He nods erratically.

”I think I twisted it,” he stammers, touching it carefully but then flinching away. Mark lifts his eyes to Donghyuck’s face just to see his eyebrows furrowed in worry. 

”Okay,” Donghyuck says, voice certain, ”we gotta get you home. Can you stand?”

”I think so,” Mark says even though he doesn’t believe it. He tries to stand up but the second he puts any weight on it, he immediately regrets it. 

”I can’t do it,” he retracts quickly. The basketball is still rolling on the ground, slowly, before coming to a halt.

”Alright,” Donghyuck mumbles, ”let me help you.”

So Mark lets him. He takes a hold of his arms and pulls him up, giving him the balance he needed to actually stand, although on one foot only. The pain is throbbing and vile. Mark slings his arm over Donghyuck’s shoulders, resting his weight on him a little too much, Donghyuck’s hand holding him by the waist. They start to move like this, Mark attempting to jump on his better foot but every jump that collides against the ground makes him jolt and wince.

”This ain’t working,” Donghyuck says after only a few meters. It’s him who’s more concerned than Mark who sort of just wants to suck it up and just be a man.

”Let me carry you,” he says, voice determined. Mark turns his face to Donghyuck, not having really realized how close he was.

”It’s too far away,” Mark says, referring to his home.

”I’ll take you at mine first, then we’ll see what to do,” Donghyuck argues, still sounding as set on stone on the matter, ”have you got other ideas?”

It makes Mark shut up since it is the only plan they have even if it’s not ideal, because he can’t definitely walk.

”Are you even strong enough?” Mark asks, and he knows it’s probably not the best question to ask, insensitive and condescending.

Donghyuck rolls his eyes.

”Do want me to help you or not?”

”Okay, okay,” he says quickly, ”please, help me.”

It’s a bit of a struggle to get Mark to the piggyback. He feels bad about it, he really does, but Donghyuck doesn’t seem upset or mad. 

His back is warm against Mark’s chest, Donghyuck’s arms looped under his thighs. If he didn’t actually need him to carry him, Mark would’ve probably pretended to hold him in a chokehold. 

“Maybe I need to lose that extra pound,” Mark mumbles quietly as Donghyuck’s ear is close to his mouth and he doesn’t want to destroy his eardrums. He snorts as a response.

“What do you mean, you’re as light as a feather,” he says but there’s a strain in his voice. 

“Yeah, right,” Mark chuckles. 

The pace is slow but he would never blame him. He can hear Donghyuck’s breathing grow heavier but he wouldn’t comment on that either. The evening is quiet and slow and it feels like everything and everyone else is asleep, despite it being only maybe 7pm. 

Mark leans his cheek against Donghyuck’s shoulder. There’s warmth, and care in it. In what, he doesn’t know specifically. But it’s an overwhelming feeling of being _safe._ His ankle still aches, he still can hear Donghyuck struggling with all the weight.

”Thank you,” he whispers. For some reason saying it louder is unbearable and impossible. Donghyuck laughs softly and something about it is so awfully tender. Mark can’t give a name to it or pinpoint the feeling. Donghyuck’s red shirt is soft and smells like the familiar detergent he has smelled many times before. 

“The things I do for you,” he says and it makes Mark smile. He looks at the sky and how the clouds are white cotton contrasted against the peachy shades. It really is getting late and Mark really, truly wants Donghyuck to just take him home. It’s another realization that hits him like a soft ocean wave—home, it doesn’t mean just his own house. 

It’s his confused heart that hammers in his chest and Mark hopes Donghyuck doesn’t notice. 

“Just say if it gets too much,” he mumbles, “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Shut up already or I’ll drop you,” Donghyuck threatens and Mark laughs in response.

“No, please don’t,” he says, a smile tugging on the corners of his lips. Donghyuck huffs. 

They fall into silence once again. A strange impulse overtakes his brain, to press his lips against the back of Donghyuck’s neck. Mark doesn’t go anywhere with it but it’s there, knocking in the back of his mind. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Mark’s sprained ankle is better after a little over two weeks. If he got something out of it, it’s definitely the free pass from P.E. He can walk normally now, if the light limp is to be ignored, it’s mostly caused by his own hesitancy and fear to put any weight on it. 

He is sitting down while Donghyuck is standing up in front of him, holding to the bar by the roof of the subway carriage. Still in their uniforms, they’re headed to the university library in the city. Donghyuck needs some book for a project that the library closer to them didn’t have and Mark decided to tag along.

Certain thoughts have haunted his mind lately, even more than they used to. 

Mark had been aware that something had changed in their dynamic since that one summer night, and so had his feelings, forming a certain attachment but—it was never this bad. In the darkness of his bedroom, he could admit to himself that the thing he felt towards Donghyuck was, in fact, attraction.

But never in daylight. Never like this, when Donghyuck almost topples over on his feet in a subway when it’s afternoon and the rays fall in through the windows like spotlights on a stage. It’s hard to ignore it. The way Donghyuck’s skin is almost golden, tan and bright. 

Mark tears his eyes away and looks at the other people in the carriage instead, careful not to stare too blatantly at them either. Someone is reading a novel and another one just looking at the floor. A young couple sitting next to each other, all cuddled up, hands held together. 

“You think we could go get some food, too?” Donghyuck asks and Mark looks up at him. 

“Your mom won’t mind if you skip her cooking?” 

He shrugs his shoulders.

“If it’s a problem, I’ll just eat twice,” Donghyuck says. He chuckles.

“Irreversible logic. Alright, let’s eat,” he says, even though he was supposed to save his allowance for the newest edition of a manhwa he has been reading. 

When their stop is nearing, Mark pushes himself up from the seat, and he didn’t mean to brush against Donghyuck while doing so. It shouldn’t feel like anything and it definitely shouldn’t matter, but Mark can’t help noticing it. 

They exit the carriage, stepping into the warm breeze of spring. 

“I was thinking,” Mark says, not happy about feeling nervous asking, he used to never feel nervous around Donghyuck, “maybe I could sleep over on the weekend. I could help you with your project, if you want.”

“Do you really think you’d be much help?” Donghyuck asks with laughter in his voice and Mark just smiles sheepishly and shrugs.

“Maybe a little,” he says. 

“That’s a huge maybe. But you can come over anyway,” Donghyuck says and slaps him in the back, a brotherly gesture, and Mark really should stop picking up on these things. 

“Cool,” he grins. The wind is cooling in his hair. It’s hard not to feel happy like this so the smile doesn’t leave his face. 

“What are you grinning at?” Donghyuck asks mockingly. 

“Ah, just life,” Mark shakes his head, the giddy feeling taking over his body. 

“Geez, hyung, you’re so weird,” he says. 

“Just for you.”

“That’s even worse!” 

Mark grabs Donghyuck by his shoulder and shuffles closer while walking down the stairs of the station. 

“Positivity, my friend!” He whistles into Donghyuck’s ear.

“I’m not your friend, hyungie,” he says in a teasing tone and Mark tilts his head.

“True. But you are my Donghyuckie.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Donghyuck sighs, a smile on his face too. It’s all good like that. Spring, really, is the best of seasons. 

While they walk to the library, Donghyuck takes to his task to tease Mark and imitate his limp that’s not really a limp. He can’t even be upset, not the slightest bit. 

“Taeyong-hyung really called me yesterday,” Mark says suddenly, “at first I thought something was wrong because, you know, he he never does that.”

Donghyuck tilts his head and stops with the mimic limp. 

“It’s the power of a how are you. No need to thank me,” he says. 

“It’s kinda because of you, really. I don’t know when he got so distant,” Mark says and it comes out sadder than intended so he rushes to fix it, “or you know how close we used to be but I don’t know how to act around him anymore. I don’t know how to talk to him by myself.”

He’s digging a hole and jumping into it. He didn’t mean to get so candid about his emotions. 

“Man, life is sad!” Donghyuck declares. Mark looks at him with a baffled smile.

“What?” He asks. 

“Life is sad and everything sucks,” he repeats. 

“What a way to compliment my positivity,” Mark says and shoves his hands in the pockets of his blue windbreaker. 

“Just stating telling the truth,” Donghyuck grins—and he says Mark’s weird—the wind blowing in his hair, “but your positive ass should maybe try to make an effort to connect with him and not just, well, wait for him to do so.”

Donghyuck isn’t supposed to actually give good advice but there he goes anyway. 

“You’re wise now?” Mark asks. 

“Ah, shut up. You know I’m right.” 

“Maybe,” he admits. 

“We could visit him,” Donghyuck suggests, “wouldn’t it be fun? Not just to see him, of course, but to get away.”

The idea sounds appealing but Mark knows it’s not exactly realistic.

“It would be,” he says anyway, “if he even wants us, or me, there.”

“Please, he adores you,” Donghyuck says. Mark hopes he’s right about it, it used to be true, once, at least.

“Well, let’s see about it,” he settles the subject and Donghyuck nods. 

They reach the library, a white big building with wide windows, and Mark lets Donghyuck lead the way inside. His shoulders seem broader like that. He used to be narrower. But then again, Mark has grown, too, and there isn’t really much other to it than that they aren’t kids anymore. 

It’s quiet but that’s to be expected. They head straight to the librarian sitting behind a counter, Donghyuck using the polite talking voice Mark never hears directed at himself. He doesn’t mind, of course, since he knows it’s not really authentic. Donghyuck may be kind but he isn’t really nice. It’s not a bad thing. 

Mark keeps trailing behind him like a lost dog. It’s not a bad thing, either. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Saturday rolls around slowly but at least by then his ankle is fine.

Donghyuck’s mom is delighted to see him, as always. Mark has always really liked her, even if it wasn’t for the brilliant cooking of hers. 

“It’s good to see you again,” she says, “is your ankle better?”

“Yes, definitely. It probably wouldn’t be it you hadn’t helped, so thank you again,” Mark speaks, trying to be as polite as he can, Donghyuck standing a few feet away, looking displeased. 

“Always, always. You’re always welcome here, no matter what,” she tells him and the genuine tone of her voice warms Mark’s heart. 

“Okay, mom, we need to do school work now,” Donghyuck says, whiny and annoying. He grabs Mark by his wrist and drags him away from his mom. 

“She likes me more than you,” Mark says lowly when they’re walking to Donghyuck’s room and it makes him poke him harshly in the side. 

“You wish!” He scoffs. 

“I _know,_ ” Mark stresses, “I’m not a brat like you.”

“She just hasn’t seen your true colours.” 

“My true colours are as lovely,” Mark says and sits down on the edge of Donghyuck’s bed. He shakes his head. 

“They’re shit stains.”

“Thank you for that.” 

“I’ve always got your back, hyung, no need for thanks,” Donghyuck says proudly, pulling a chair from under his desk to sit down. He is wearing a white graphic t-shirt and light blue jeans and it’s hard not to wonder, when did Donghyuck grow up like this. They have known each other for long enough for Mark to see, he isn’t the same anymore. What changed and when?

“You say that but,” Mark mumbles. 

“There isn’t a but,” Donghyuck talks over him before he can finish. It’s not that he’s wrong, there really isn’t anything to say. Donghyuck may be a little demon but he is his little demon, or something along the lines. 

“I rented a movie, by the way,” Donghyuck changes the subject, “wanna watch it?”

“Later,” Mark says, “how about your project?”

Donghyuck laughs.

“You really think I need your help?” He asks, mouth twisted in a devilish grin. 

“So you lied to your mother!” 

“What she doesn’t know, doesn’t hurt her,” Donghyuck says, and Mark, momentarily, wishes this would really apply to other things. 

“Donghyuckie,” Mark says in a teasing tone, “you’re horrible.”

“Why must you always insult me?”

“You’re asking for it.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes and picks up a pen and throws it at him but it falls into his lap.

Later, they do watch the movie and it’s really fucking boring so Mark just spaces out midway through. By the time it’s finished, he’s yawning and frankly, just ready to go to sleep. He’s wearing a borrowed set of pajamas, having been too lazy to bring his own. 

In Donghyuck’s room, light turned off, he crashes down on the futon laid on the floor. 

“You’re tired already?” Donghyuck asks and Mark groans in the pillow and rolls on his back. 

“I’m an old man,” he says, throwing the pillow at Donghyuck, who dodges it cleanly. 

“Like I don’t know that, hyung,” he shakes his head and picks up the pillow. Donghyuck drops down to his knees and shoves the pillow in Mark’s face, mimicking suffocating him. Mimicking used very loosely as the pillow actually smushes his face and Mark has to repeatedly hit Donghyuck in his chest for him to free him. 

“Bastard,” Mark curses at him when Donghyuck removes the pillow. His knees are on both sides of his torso, kneeling over him, looking down at Mark with a menacing look on his face, if his judgement is right.

Mark wrestles the pillow from Donghyuck’s hold and after succeeding at that, hits him in the face with it. He doesn’t even fight back and just lets him do it. It won’t hurt. 

After a while Donghyuck seems to get bored and pushes the pillow out of Mark’s hands and just sits down on him.

“My organs,” Mark groans dramatically. 

“Be a big boy,” he rolls his eyes, even though it’s hard to tell in the dark, and grabs Mark’s wrists since he’s attempting to push him off. 

Mark doesn’t find himself fighting back when Donghyuck pushes his hands against the futon. The lack of light makes it hard to make out but his expression doesn’t seem as joking as it did before. Mark notices that Donghyuck’s hair has gotten longer for the way it’s drooping down and he definitely wasn’t this close a second ago. 

Who initiates it, Mark doesn’t know, but what matters is that then he is kissing him. Mouth to mouth. It’s so very different from everything and anything he has done before. At first it’s a little shy, testing the waters but neither of them struggle, put up against it, so quickly it morphs into something needier, more desperate.

The grip Donghyuck has on his wrists loosens but instead of pulling his hands out to push him away, Mark wraps his arms around his neck and shoulders to get him closer, not to let him escape, even though realistically his hold wouldn’t change much. 

Donghyuck cradles his face with his palm, thumb digging into the soft flesh under his jawbone, other hand supporting himself up by being propped against the futon. Mark wants and needs him closer, and as if Donghyuck understands this he lays down on top of him, one thigh between Mark’s, all tangled up and he still wants more. 

The door is shut and the noises that echo in the room are merely the breathing through noses and the sound of lips, colliding, parting, a little bit of spit, the shy tongue. Mark arches his back to press against him tighter, as if it was even possible as they’re perfectly flushed against one other. 

Donghyuck’s parents are asleep a few rooms over but Mark couldn’t care less. His hands tangle in Donghyuck’s hair, the soft strands between his fingers. It’s difficult to focus on anything else but the proximity of him. Clumsy, warm and hurried, as in a rush to get somewhere.

Donghyuck rolls around to pull Mark on top of him and he complies. His hands slip under Mark’s shirt, caressing his side and back, holding him close. 

It goes on like this until it doesn’t and they fall asleep like that. On top of the futon on the floor, next to each other, noses almost touching. 

It feels almost like a dream and he wakes up disoriented and confused, but to see him next to him, lips all red and flushed, Mark knows it really happened. It makes his heart shift from its place.

Mark leaves before Donghyuck wakes up. It’s not as much for himself as it’s for Donghyuck, remembering the way he reacted last summer. But it’s just not that. Donghyuck looked so peaceful asleep and Mark didn’t want to ruin it for himself. 

He can always say he wanted to go to church, it being a Sunday morning, as if Mark had gone in ages. Mark knows he should feel bad about it but he just doesn’t. It’s sort of hard to when he also knows it’s what his mind wants, body craves and heart aches for. 

Mark will call him later. 

Then, when it’s late enough for him to have woken up, Mark does and Donghyuck doesn’t pick up. 

He calls three times more all throughout the evening. 

Donghyuck doesn’t answer.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


On Monday, Donghyuck isn’t on the bus. Mark knows his schedule and he knows Donghyuck’s school starts at the same time as his. It’s worrying, even though it’s not difficult to guess what it’s about. A nervous feeling possesses Mark’s body, starting at his throat and spreads all the way to his toes and to the tips of his fingers. 

Mark decides to wait in front of Donghyuck’s classroom just to see if he’d show up even though there wouldn’t be time to talk. Some of his classmates give him a quick look but dismiss him as quickly. 

There’s a minute before the clock hits 8am and it’s only then when Mark spots Donghyuck rushing down the corridor. He doesn’t even look at him. 

“Donghyuck—” Mark says when he reaches him but Donghyuck just shakes his head.

“Go to class, hyung,” he says, voice almost cold, and still doesn’t even give him one look, just passes by and walks into the classroom. Mark doesn’t have a choice but to do as he said and he has to run, too. Luckily it’s just one floor up. 

Mark can’t really focus in class. That is an understatement. His hands keep sweating and the words he tries to read don’t register as anything other than just incoherent syllables. It’s just luck that the teacher doesn’t ask anything from him and he can just space out in peace. 

When the bell rings to signal a fifteen minute break, Mark rushes out of his seat just so he can catch Donghyuck before runs into hiding. Maybe he should let him, a part of Mark doubts if it’s worth it—maybe things would just fall in the place like they did before. 

But the thing is that Mark doesn’t think he can do it. He can’t pretend that it never happened and he isn’t all too sure if he could look at Donghyuck in the face, straight in his eyes and say he doesn’t want to kiss him. 

“Donghyuck,” Mark calls his name when he spots him in the corridor near to his homeroom. It looks like Donghyuck actually freezes, a frightened expression seeping through what Mark knows as his guilty face. It’s the neutral straight line of is lips, the serious eyes. Donghyuck never looks serious unless he feels guilty. 

“I—” Donghyuck starts, avoiding his gaze. Mark doesn’t let him speak.

“Stop avoiding me,” he says and it comes out as pleading, desperate.

“I wasn’t,” Donghyuck says, still refusing to meet his eyes. 

“You were. We gotta talk.”

“No, we don’t. Nothing to talk about,” he keeps his voice low.

“That’s bullshit,” Mark says and tries to sound calm, not wanting to make him think that he’s angry. It’s probably not even rational but it sort of feels like if they don’t talk now they will never do it. 

“We’re at school, anyway,” Donghyuck mumbles.

“Let’s go up to the roof,” he says, and he’s borderline begging him at this point. 

“I don’t think we should.”

“Please?” 

Donghyuck looks torn and Mark finds himself hating it. He hates that he is the cause of his conflict. It takes a few moments but then he nods. 

While he felt more confident and determined before, the cold grip of nervousness is starting to take its hold again. What is he trying to achieve? How could there be an outcome where it doesn’t hurt? But then again, if it’s going to hurt either way, why not take the leap and hit the ground with certainty, instead of falling and keeping on falling. 

Mark walks up the stairs with a heavy heart. There’s always a chance the door’s lock has been changed again and none of the students had figured a way how to unlock it but if that’s the case, he’ll just deal with it then. Neither of them speak. 

The metal door opens and Mark almost sighs with relief. He should’ve grabbed a coat but of course he didn’t think so far ahead. Donghyuck trails behind him into the breezy air and Mark hears the door close behind him. He keeps on walking until he’s closer to the ledge and only then turns around, confidence still scattered all over the place. 

“I don’t know what you’re trying to achieve here, hyung,” Donghyuck says. His cheeks are flushed red from something that looks like embarrassment or shame. 

“I don’t know either,” he admits, “but I can’t let you avoid me again. When will we talk about it?”

“About what?” Donghyuck asks and only then looks him in the eye, challenging and almost mean, but Mark knows it’s not true. Sometimes he reminds him of a scared animal, when cornered ready to sink its teeth in. 

“You know what I’m talking about, Hyuckie,” Mark says, trying to still keep his composure, pretending his trembling body is only caused by the wind, acting like he doesn’t notice the way Donghyuck seems to flinch over him using the nickname. 

“Well, what if I don’t?” 

“Don’t be stupid.”

The wind messes with Donghyuck’s dark hair. The clouds look like cotton candy and Mark hates how beautiful he is contrasted against the bright blue sky. 

“Hyung,” Donghyuck sounds broken, “I can’t do this.” 

Mark takes a step closer and Donghyuck takes one back, escaping, slipping from between his fingers like quicksand. He doesn’t know what to say to make anything better but he still tries, it’s all he can do. 

“Why?” Mark asks because maybe he just needs to hear it. 

“Because it’s fucking weird!” Donghyuck borderline yells, abruptly, bursting, and Mark’s afraid someone is going to hear him. He is quiet for a second.

“What if I don’t care?” Mark asks, carefully, surprised by confident it sounds because he feels more fragile than he has in a while. 

“How can you not?” He asks back. Mark wants to hold him. 

“I love you,” he says, and it’s not what he meant to say, it just spills out uncontrollably, “you’re my best friend. I don’t care if it’s weird because it’s you.” _And it’s always going to be you,_ Mark wants to add but it sounds already way too dramatic. 

“It’s not right,” Donghyuck shakes his head and it looks like he’s on the verge of tears but none spill out. 

“I don’t care,” Mark repeats, and this time when he steps closer, Donghyuck doesn’t back off. He takes his hands in his and just holds them, rubbing his thumb over Donghyuck’s knuckles. 

“I love you, Donghyuck,” he whispers, “if that makes me, I don’t know, sick, then be it.”

Donghyuck shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut. 

“I, no, _we_ can’t,” he says, voice trembling. Mark lets go of his hand just to brush it against his cheek. Donghyuck leans against it. 

“But you feel it too?” He asks, even though he maybe shouldn’t. Donghyuck nods, pained, and for a second it’s enough—but it doesn’t last long. 

Mark wants to imagine a future where they could have something. A white picket fence and a golden labrador retriever. He wants to think, maybe, maybe if they moved away, to America, maybe. 

But would Donghyuck give up his mother and would Mark push Taeyong away? What would they, realistically, be willing to give up just to proceed with something that could probably never work, either way. No children, no wedding ceremony. Mark knows it’s a reach to even entertain those things. 

“Tell me,” Mark says but it sounds more like a question or a plead. Tell me if it could ever work and if not, tell me this isn’t for nothing.

“I love you too, hyung,” Donghyuck says and looks down. He sounds small. 

Mark doesn’t know what to do with any of this. To know that he didn’t imagine any of it is a relief but it’s worse to know that if he had, he could’ve brushed it away and moved on. He has never felt this naked, on a school roof, in his uniform, holding Donghyuck’s hand.

He wants to ask him what they will do, what can they do, but it’s pointless. Donghyuck won’t have any answers.

This is when he thinks back to the inexplicable feeling of safety when Donghyuck carried him to his place and the evening sky made it look like the whole neighbourhood was on fire. Mark looks past Donghyuck’s shoulder to try to find something in the view of suburban Seoul that opens up like a predator’s mouth, hungry and familiar while posing as a vile threat. 

What is he supposed to do now, where can he go? The break is definitely over already but there isn’t a clock on the roof to let him know for sure.

“Close your eyes,” Donghyuck says, tiny and careful. Mark doesn’t ask questions and does as told. 

Donghyuck’s hands slip from his and he wants to reach out. It’s a fear that if he lets go now, he might never catch him again. Donghyuck’s fingers and palms cradle his face then, bumping against his glasses, mapping over his skin like to memorize the way his cheekbones rise and lips frown. 

The pain is the worst part is for Mark didn’t expect it to hurt like this. It’s not a vulgar throbbing ache or a bleeding wound but a feeling in the bottom of his stomach, a calm dread, the peace before and after a storm, the most unbearable parts having been cut out. 

Donghyuck kisses his forehead, then his cheeks, the tip of his nose and Mark can’t stop thinking that they shouldn’t be doing this. They shouldn’t be acting like it’s a farewell because Donghyuck is his best friend and there will be many nights to spend at basketball courts and watching television on a winter day, there will be city pools when it’s summer and there will be weddings and funerals, there will be women introduced as a girlfriend and then eventually holding the label a wife, white picket fences and labrador retrievers, children running on a sunlit yard.

What if Mark doesn’t want that? 

What if he wants just Donghyuck, whatever that might mean, and how is he supposed to deal with the knowledge that after the metal door is closed, they will never talk about this again? 

Donghyuck kisses him on the lips but it’s over before it even began. 

Mark opens his eyes. 

He has never seen him look this sad. It offers some certainty, to know that Donghyuck knows it’s like a goodbye, too, and it’s just not him. 

“I, we, we gotta go,” Donghyuck stammers over his words, “class.” 

Mark swallows and nods. 

“Alright,” he whispers, defeated. He doesn’t blame Donghyuck, how could he when he knows what’s at stake.

Donghyuck turns around and walks back to the door, holding it open for Mark. When inside, he rushes down the stairs without another word and Mark watches him go. He feels like he can’t breathe, a sweaty palm gripping the iron handle of the door. 

And then Mark lets go, the door ajar, and runs down the stairs, careful not to trip. 

The stairway is awfully quiet, the sound of his shoes colliding with the floor louder than bombs, the door, still, ajar, and Mark never hears it close. 

It was supposed to.

**Author's Note:**

> ah hope u liked this! thank u for reading hehe. remember to leave kudos and a comment if u did!! i love yall.
> 
> u can find me on twitter at [morkhyuck](https://twitter.com/morkhyuck) if youd like to read something specific from me or sumn! 


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